The Difficulties of Loving You
by TheSnugglepuff
Summary: A fanfic where the three main characters are based on Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and Hermoine Granger. Magic will come into play I promise! This is inspired by Pride and Prejudice and Harry Potter. New chapters will be uploaded weekly! Warnings of slash, self harm and rape. Please don't read if this may trigger or upset.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: These characters are based on J. 's and I do not own them I just borrow them. My storyline has been based on the works of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Again, I am not attempting to own.**

**Magic will come into play later, just stay tuned!**

"You promised me!" He was screaming at me. "You promised me that you'd never ever-"

I cut him off. "I promised a lot of things y'know! I never keep them! That I promise you!"

I've never seen his eyes so broken and betrayed. It's emotional and physical torture, if that's even possible now. I felt his pain soar through every vein in my body. I screamed and sobbed. I wish this could stop, I wish I could turn back time, I wish all this would end. He doesn't deserve this. He deserves better than me. A worthless 17 year old guy, who's tragically alone and desperate.

All I do is bring other people pain. Pain they undeservedly recieve. Pain I give out, but pain that should be rightly mine.

"I love you! How can you do this; do you think no one does?!" He was sobbing now, the tears running down those gorgeously sharp cheekbones and along his perfect jawline. He runs a hand through his white blonde hair, a thing he does when he gets nervous.

We both heard it clatter, neither of us looked.

Then everything went black.

Please tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter One

**Thank you for the reviews! **

**Disclaimer in Prologue. These are NOT my characters. **

Chapter One 

"And the reason for hyperinflation in Germany after the war was what, Harry?" My history teacher asked me, smiling as he assumed I didn't know the answer. I smiled back at him and answered, "Well, it was because of the general strike, so no one was making any money, so as a result the government started printing it. And the more was printed, the more worthless it became."

History was something that I, a fifteen year old guy, was actually quite good at. I enjoyed how things changed and evolved.

The teacher continued to teach about Germany while I, normally avidly engaged in History lessons, stared absent-mindedly out the window and waited for the bell to signal that we could pack up and finally leave this sweltering classroom. When it did, I made no rush to pack up my stuff and wandered slowly down to the buses home. I get on and see my only friend Hermione sat there. She smiles at me. She knows everything about me, since we were eleven and she keeps me safe, when she can. I slump next to her and shove my bag onto the floor, harder than intended, the zip splitting with the mass of books.

"For fucks sake!" I swear loudly, unaware of the people around me and bend down to pick up my books and put them back in my bag; Hermione goes to help me. My sleeve rides up, I don't notice until it's too late and I see her eyes flick to my wrists. I hastily pull my sleeves down and sit back up. She turns her music off and turns to face me, her eyes piercing me like a bullet.

"Harry. Why, why, oh why, are you doing this to yourself again?" Her eyes are full of sympathy, I hate that. I don't want her sympathy. I glare at her and she sighs. "Okay, I know, don't sympathise because you don't like it. I'm your best friend Harry. I've been with you since the start of all this-" She signalled to my wrists "- And I've kept you from the end." Her hand was resting gently on my thigh as her eyes gazed into mine, trying to decipher my story. I looked away. She then nestled her head into my chest and I wrapped my arms around her. I know she's had a bad day, this is how she tells me.

"What's up bubba?" Her dark brown eyes flick up to look at me, her mascara smudged slightly under her eyes and her pink soft lips slightly parted. For a split second she looked lost and alone and in such dire need of help. I wish I could give her that. She blinked and nestled back into my chest. She softly and slowly told me that her Mum was kicking her out the house tonight, due to the fact that she has a new boyfriend over to stay. Ah, her mother. Not my most favoured person. Hermione's Dad is unknown to her and her mother. Having been a drug crazy groupie, she doesn't remember much. However, after having Hermione, she changed and got a stable job where she travels a lot to impoverished countries. So everything started going well, until she started dating again when Hermione was 13. It screwed with Hermione, she changed and her Mum changed. Hermione stopped working hard and her Mum started sleeping hard. Hermione finally at almost 15 is getting better at ignoring it and using work as her solace now. But she can't pretend knowing that her Mum is sleeping with her latest boyfriend in her house is something she's happy about. It upsets her.

I get home and go straight to my room. It's the only place I find peace in my house, preferably strumming on my guitar or on my laptop. But sometimes even that doesn't help. It can't save me sometimes... I'm weak, very weak. I take my shirt and tie off to look at my arms. The cuts aren't obvious, I don't think. But that's me. I run my fingers gently up the pale white scars. Some horizontal, some vertical.

I breathe, calming myself and drop my hand away from the scars. I pick up my guitar and start strumming quietly to myself. Just as I'm getting into it, I hear a removal truck drive into next door. That house has been on sale for years, I don't even remember who lived there before. I wonder who they are, what their story is. What baggage they'd have. Emotional baggage is a beautiful thing. You never know how much people really have. Some are better at hiding it than others. I'm one of them. I know I am.

I run a hand through my unruly mass of curls as I rest on the window and drag on my cigarette. Hermione hates the fact I smoke. Almost as if she read my mind my phone vibrates in my pocket. I'd text her earlier about the new people next door and she thinks it's probably just a family who couldn't find anywhere else in the area. I guess she might be right.


	3. Chapter Two

**Here goes Chapter Two! First hint of magic here! Please tell me what you think! **

Chapter Two

I always panic when I get on the bus and Hermione's not there. Always. But I forcefully remind myself that I guess her Mum doesn't exactly stay in England the whole time. I still worry. I get on the bus, so worried about Hermione that I don't notice someone else getting on with me, as I sit down a voice asks if he can sit by me. My eyes flick up taking in the expensive Levi's belt, the sleeves rolled up on the white shirt showing pale arms, the sharp jaw line, the silvery eyes and the white blonde hair.

"Yeah sure, go ahead." I push my bag onto the floor, it doesn't split this time, and he sits next to me.

"Hi, I'm Draco by the way. I just moved here, like literally last night. Mum wanted me to start school as soon as I could."

Suddenly it dawned on me.

"Oh, okay. I think I'm in the house next to yours. I saw you guys moving in last night. You in year 10?"

He raises and eyebrow, "Yeah, I am."

"Oh cool, I'm in year 10 too. I'm Harry by the way, I should have said."

He stared at me with that transfixing gaze of his, his pale grey eyes staring into mine. He blinked and we made awkward polite conversation throughout the rest of the journey. When we got to school he got off the bus extremely quickly, almost as if he knew where he was going. I walked into the main building and walked straight into Ron.

"What the fuck is wrong with you mate?!" He bellows at me, standing almost half a foot over my slight frame, with huge feet, red hair and freckles. He's never liked me. It's because of Hermione. Ron's been in love with her since the day we started and he thinks Hermione and I are an item. So of course, I'm not the most popular.

"Sorry Ron." I say it quickly and duck into my tutor room to get away. And come face to face with Draco.

"Oh, hey Draco."

He ignores me and keeps texting someone on his phone. I sit behind him, and notice how thin he is. He's almost painfully thin. But before I can worry any further the bell rings and everyone spills into the classroom in a mass of laughter and mindless chatter. A girl called Pansy, who I don't particularly like, but seems to like me a lot, pulls up a chair next to me.

"Hey Harry, who's that new kid?" She whispers, pointing at Draco.

"He's called Draco and he's just moved here." I don't tell her that he's moved in next door to me.

"Wow, he's cute." I give her a look, eyebrow raised sarcastically. She laughs and claims that he is.

"I'm a guy Pans!" She smiles at that. Clearly having got the information she wanted from me she gets up and goes over to Draco. He looks at her as he looked at me, almost as if he's staring into her soul. She's clearly freaked out by this and introduces herself. He smiles, suddenly snapping out of the staring and they start chatting like she was with me. She says something and I see his eyes flick over to me and they laugh. Suddenly I feel the entire room spin until it's just him and I left. I don't even have a chance to look around before I blink and I'm back in the miserable white washed classroom with its plastic desks and blue carpet. I lock eyes with Draco and I know I'm in trouble.


	4. Chapter Three

**I'm putting a warning for this Chapter. There is a very detailed description of rape here. If this may upset you, please do NOT read! Rated M for the content. I repeat, Please do not read if this may upset you.**

**Disclaimer in the Prologue.**

Chapter Three

Three tortuous days later, Hermione falls into class, her hair frizzy, no makeup and her shirt untucked. The teacher looks up from his marking and everyone whips round to look at her. She runs a hand through her hair and speaks, answering the question on everyone's mind. "Sorry, Mum got called away and couldn't find anyone to look after me. Plane was delayed and I have jet lag." The teacher tells her to sit down and sort herself out. Everyone gets back to their work, the excitement's died now. I don't take my eyes off Hermione. She doesn't seem right, but I can't put my finger on it and I don't want to jump to conclusions, that annoys her. After she's settled and starting her work, I turn to face her. "Hermione," I begin softly.

"No Harry. Leave me be." She adjusts her collar and pulls her sleeves down like she's cold, despite the heat. I can't figure out what's up. I really can't.

I watch her throughout the day, but she's steering clear of me. She's hiding something, something important, but she won't tell me. It's been no better with Draco, he's been ignoring me since the room incident. Despite the fact we get off at the same stop and everything. It's been three days of torture.

I get home and Mum starts asking me what's wrong. She asks me six times before supper and three after. Maybe if she stopped bugging me, I'd tell her. She pressures me so much, it just pushes me away. It's the last thing I need. I turn off all my lights except my bedside lamp and curl up into a little ball in my bed. Then I let out all my emotions, I cry and I cry and I cry. I sob until I'm sure I can't physically make any more tears. I torture myself in my mind, punishing myself. I reach under my bed and pull out my little box that's been my friend for so long. I pull out the newest blade, the one that I bought last week, it's glinting in the moon light. I drag my boxers down and expose my hip, scars lined neatly in a row. I count them, slowly under my breath. "One, two, three, four, five." I run my finger gently along them, pale and bumpy under my finger tip. I shudder and lift the blade to my hip. To make an identical cut under the previous five. I drag it slowly and painfully across my hip, wincing at the pain. I feel the skin open up and I drag it again. The blood starts to weep out of my skin; releasing the pain that was witheld inside me. I drag it across once more, just for luck. It burns and I get my box of Kleenex tissues from under the bed, pressing them hard against my dripping cuts. Just as I get back up, I'm sure I see someone in the other house, across the street from me. I blink and realise it was just me. Pressing the tissue into my weeping cuts, I climb back into my bed and fall asleep.

"Hey Draco." I call out to him on the bus and he, slightly begrudgingly I notice, comes and sits next to me.

"Hey Harry, what's up?"

"Not much, parents being annoying again, y'know."  
"Yeah... I guess."

I look closely at his eyes and see that they're slightly red rimmed. I gently move closer, but not much and say, "Hey Draco, I don't know what you're going through, but I want you to know that you can talk to me. Despite the fact that I've known you about a week..."  
He looks into my eyes, deep long and hard, as if he's staring right into my entire life. It's uncomfortable and mesmerising at exactly the same time, his light grey eyes with their darker rims piercing into my emerald green ones, our faces inches apart. He blinks and pulls back.

"Errm, yeah. Thanks. I might. Just things are shit for me right now and I don't know if I want to talk to anyone about it. Let alone someone who I barely know."

I nod slowly, understanding what he means.

"Look, I think you might find it easier to talk to me than anyone else okay? But you need to let me tell you why. Meet me in the theatre dressing rooms at two? No one ever goes in there."

"I might do." And he turns away from me and pushes his headphones in. I look at him for a bit, taking in his messy hair and balled up posture, back hunched, knees up and arms around him. Almost like he's protecting himself. I wish I knew what from.

Hermione gets on and sits behind me. She pokes me and checks that Draco's still deep into his music. "Bubbs, I need to talk to you. It's important. Ten in the dressing rooms?" I look at her huge and worried eyes.

"Yes bubba, of course." I say gently, my insides churning. She slumps back into her chair and gets her latest novel out and starts listening to her music.

I wait in the dressing rooms, admiring my scars on my arm, my back to the door, so I don't hear it. I feel an arm slip round my waist, I flinch and see Hermione there. "God, you scared me." She smiles at me, her eyes glinting, but teary. "Hermione... Hermione what's wrong?" I hold her face in my hands as she blinks and the tears start to flow and she collapses on the floor in a heap. I go down after her and wrap her into my arms so she's pressing into my chest, her breaths raggedy and sharp as she sobs. "Bubba. What's wrong?" I rock her back and forth until I sense she's calmed down. She curls up into me and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. "It all just happened so fast. I didn't know what I was doing until it was too late. I begged and it wouldn't stop. I deserved it." Her breaths were shaking.

"Okay, Herm, you're going to have to tell me everything that happened. Please."

"I was going out, because Mum needed me to get her some things, I can't even remember what they were now, and then this guy just appeared out of nowhere and pushed me up against a wall. He told me that he had a knife and if I screamed he'd kill me. I was so scared, I don't think I could have screamed if I tried. He heaved up my dress and violently ripped my knickers. Then he... Then he-" She started shaking and crying again. I pulled her so close into me. I felt so many emotions all at once. Anger, pain, sorrow. It was all bubbling up inside me.

"Then he forced himself inside me. It hurt so much, I cried throughout all of it as he pushed me roughly against the wall, it was so so painful. He grabbed my ribs and pushed me and squeezed me. I was so scared. When he'd finished he slapped me and kicked me on the floor. And then he just walked away. He just left me.

My knickers ripped down to my ankles, my dignity shredded apart. I stayed there for what seemed like hours, just numb. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me. I got up and smoothed my dress down and walked out of the alley. I got home and Mum immediately asked why I'd taken so long and what had happened to my arm and my thighs and why I was bloodied. I told her I was texting while going down the set of stairs by the co-op and I fell down. She believed me. I had three showers that evening. Then the next morning I woke up and tried to deny it, but it was no use. I took my stash of pills and downed them. Mum found me as I was on the last ones. She took me to hospital without a second thought and I was in there. Hence these." She lifted her arms and pulled her shirt sleeve down to show bandages and bruises. "I was released the day I came back to school."

"Hermy. Hermy. Hermy. Hermy. My beautiful baby. If I ever see that guy, I'm going to tear his throat out and take pleasure in every single second of it as he bleeds to his rightful death. No one does this to you. NO ONE." I pull her in close. She wanted to stay innocent until she felt she'd met the right person. And then someone comes along and snatches it cruelly and painfully away from her, ripping her open and bruising her. Using her innocence for his pleasure.

She shudders and looks at her watch. "Bubbs, I need to go, I've got Physics next and I can't be late." I looked her deep in the eyes, holding her tightly and peck her nose.

"I love you Hermione. Okay? And no one's ever going to do that again to you. Please, I'm begging you. If something like this happens again, call me or text me whatever. I need to know you're okay." She stares into my eyes and without saying a word, gets up and leaves me there. Alone on the floor.

Why won't she let me help her?


	5. Chapter Four

**DISCLAIMER IN PROLOGUE.**

Chapter Four

Still balled up on the floor, Hermione's words swarming around the room. I can't take it in. Hermione, my bubbs, Hermione was raped. She was properly raped. How, why... I don't understand.

"Yeah... Hi.. So. You wanted to talk?"  
Draco was standing in the doorway, hand running through that beautiful hair of his...

I suddenly realise that I must have been sitting on the floor for hours, because Hermione left at ten, and, as my eyes flick to the clock, it's now two.

"Yeah... I guess I did." I gesture to the patch of floor beside me. He walks over and throws his bag down then slumps next to me. His eyes meet mine, and it took my breath away. In those eyes I could see his pain, so so much pain. But then the guards come back up and the eyes are hard as steel and impossible to read.

"So..." He said, clearly feeling awkward and wondering quite what he came here for.

"Yeah, I get that you're not who you seem to be." I pause to let this sink in and to build the courage up to say the next thing. "I also know that I'm not who I seem to be." I pause again and look at the puzzlement on his face. I sigh and gently lift my sleeve. I can't believe I'm really doing this, showing my whole world and all my pain to a total stranger. My sleeve is now up just past my elbow, it's my left arm, it's worse than the right. His eyes widen and he looks at me. Panic in his eyes.

"Why?" He whispers quietly to me. I sigh. I wish there was a straightforward answer to that. But there really isn't. I've been doing it for so long I don't remember a time when I didn't need it.

"Do you mind?" I jump, initially wondering what he's talking about, I flick my eyes down and realise his hand is poised just above my wrist, over my criss-crossing scars and cuts.

"No... I don't." His fingers are gentle and soft on my raw skin. It's a strange sensation, it feels tingly and nice, like his fingers alone are healing my entire arm with a single touch. He makes eye contact and he looks tearful. I place my hand gently on top of his, our eyes locked.

He takes his hand away and I pull my sleeve down. Our moment of intimacy over.

"Why do you do that to yourself? Why butcher your skin? You're slowly killing yourself..." I look at him.

"Do you really not get it? Really?"

He looks puzzled.

"I cut myself because if there's a physical pain I can control it. I don't know how to control my emotional pain anymore. Cutting gives me a release. If you breathe out all the air in your lungs then stop breathing. Your chest starts to tighten. And when you get to the point when you just can't take it for much longer, you take a massive breath in. That relief? The good feeling of when you have air in your lungs again. That's why I cut." There are tears in my eyes. I've never been that honest with anyone who wasn't Hermione before. I suddenly start to panic. What if I've put my trust in someone who actually isn't trustworthy at all?

"You know... Harry... I guess I do understand what you're doing to yourself. I've never done it. But I've tried to kill myself before." He's staring at the floor and picking at a ragged bit of the old worn carpet.

It's my turn to question him, "But why?"

His hand freezes and he tenses up. Without looking at me, he says "Because things weren't going right in my life."

"Oh." Is all I manage to say. His eyes flick up and me and his hand runs up my arm, tracing where my cuts are. He remembered where each one was... His eyes piercing mine, but still so unreadable. My right hand goes to his cheek and he flinches away, arms up by his chest.

I move closer, "Hey, it's okay." And I place a hand on his jaw. I can feel him tense beneath me. I move closer, our eyes locked once more, when his hand tightens on my arm and I yelp back in pain.

He looks shocked and confused as I sit there, holding my arm.

"Fine, emo boy. Lead me on, freak. Be a fuck up, see if I care. Fuck you." I'm staring at him open mouthed as he snatches up his bag and storms out. The door slams, the cold wave of air hitting me.

"Fuck this." I go inside my bag looking for my cigarettes, when my hand grazes my box of blades. I run my fingers gently along it and wrap my hand around it. Pulling it out slowly, I see it's battered edges, soft on my fingers. My blades, from pencil sharpeners mostly all in there. I open it tentatively, choosing a blade. Pausing, I go to my bag again and get my cigarettes. Sticking one in my mouth I light it with one hand, something I've been able to do for a while, a drag on it slowly. I feel the nicotine fill my lungs, damaging me further on the inside. Broken inside and out. I smile at this. I don't know why I should. Stubbing my cigarette out on the wall, I drop it on the rough carpet. Reaching into my box to get my blades, I don't need a fortune teller to tell me what's coming next.


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer in Prologue. MAJOR WARNINGS FROM THIS CHAPTER. Please do not read if cutting or self harm upsets you. TRIGGER WARNING.**

**Thank you so much to all my lovely followers and reviewers! I'm just finishing Chapter 13, where the magic is definitely in there! Please could you tell me if you want me to post all my finished chapters now or weekly?**

**Thank you my lovelies! Next few Chapters are quite short, but stay tuned!**

Chapter Five

I sit there, watching the blood seep through my shirt, knowing I'll have to throw it away after this, when Hermione storms in.

"YOU CAN'T JUST... Oh my God Harry!"

Her eyes lock with the set of fresh cuts. They're deeper than ever and more of them, but no matter how much I did, nothing hurt. Nothing hurt more than this. There's blood dripping onto the floor and over my trouser clad legs.

Hermione takes off her shirt, revealing a white vest, and starts ripping strips from it. She wraps them around my arms and tightens them quickly. The rest is a blur.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in bed, left arm stinging. My head was in agony as well. I got up and saw Hermione sitting on my chair writing avidly in a notebook. I suddenly became very conscious of my state of undress, being just left in my bed in my tee shirt and boxers. "Holy shit Hermione!" I said, covering myself with my duvet. She looked up, shrugged and went back to her book. She is utterly not fazed by me. At all. However, I tell a very different story.

Feeling very self conscious about the scars on my thighs and chest, which she'd never seen before, I cautiously got up and found a pair of Hollister tracksuit bottoms and changed into a long sleeved white tee shirt which clung rather nicely to my abs. Only then did Hermione look up at me and she immediately jumped up and gave me a hug by my wardrobe. "Woaaah Hermione, are you okay?"

She smiled, placed a gentle hand on my bandaged arm and told me that she was. She then walked over to my bed and climbed in, still in her school uniform. "Hermione, if you want to change you can." She looked at me. "And what exactly would I change into?" She said, climbing out of bed and placing her hands on my hips. "Hmmm, well Miss Hermione, that's a tricky one. Maybe this?" I suggested as I brought out a feather boa from when we watched Rocky Horror a while ago. She burst out laughing and put it on, dancing round and singing to the music. I then gave her a hat and a pair of gloves. She looks utterly ridiculous. I giggle and place my hands on her jaw, sliding them down to her waist. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me. Only then do I feel her body relax under my touch. I hate the fact that some guy has put her through so much emotional and physical agony. She is pretty undeniably, I know a lot of guys think that, but she's a strong girl, I've never seen her so broken before, it's hard. She's been my tower of strength for so long, I've never considered that she was so broken and weak inside. I press one hand to her hair, wild and frizzy, keeping her close to me, willing her to stay safe and protected by anyone for the rest of her life. She is whispering something into my chest and I put my finger to her lips. She smiles under it. I start singing Time Warp gently under my breath to cheer her up. We both start moving slowly round the room to my soft singing. She leaps away from me when a car honks next door. She swings herself back into the seat with her notebook, curling her body into herself. I move towards the window at who it is, and I see Draco walking up to his front door with his sister presumably. He holds the door open for her then slams it. He curses loudly and his sister is crying to him that he shouldn't think that without evidence, and that he has no right to do what he's considering. He spins on his heel and says something to her quietly; she straightens her back and they proceed silently into the house, slamming the front door behind him. Not before he locked eyes with me, and narrowed them, his pure hatred evident even from a distance. Mia muttered something and I turned away from the window to face her. When I turned back, the door had been slammed and the glass pane cracked.

I lit a cigarette and Hermione moved across the room to my bed, as I said she hates the fact I smoke. Breathing a cloud of smoke above my head, I look down at the old pile of photos I've been meaning to look through for ages, but all the ones of Hermione and I have gone from the pile, choosing to ignore it I finish my cigarette and ask Hermione to come downstairs with me, not shutting my window because of the smell of smoke.


	7. Chapter Six

**DISCLAIMER IN PROLOGUE. **

Chapter Six

Later at supper, a typical Waitrose 'bang it in the oven' meal for my incredibly hard working, single Mother. Hermione gently asked my Mum if it would be okay if she stayed the night, as she hated walking home in the dark. We made eye contact as she said that. We both knew why. Mum smiled at her and told her that it was silly of her to even ask and of course that's fine.

Having only one spare room in our house, which is occupied by boxes and other rubbish, Hermione ended up staying in my room, on a mattress. She borrowed one of my tee shirts to sleep in and went to brush her teeth. I got into bed as I heard Hermione flush the toilet and turn the taps off. I pretended to be asleep as she wandered in. Suddenly I feel a soft warm hand on my upper arm. "Hey, Harry. I know you're not asleep, can I be with you? I'm scared to sleep alone." I hold her hand and bring her down onto the bed with me. She giggles and I smile. I like it when she smiles. She got herself comfy, facing away from me lying on her stomach, her mad hair sprawled out behind her. I lie on my back and play with her hair.

It must be about three in the morning when I'm woken by violent shaking of the bed and screams. I panic when I realise they're Hermione's. Leaping up onto my knees, I hold her shoulders and shake her, "Hermione, Hermione! You gotta wake up." She tenses under my touch and then starts thrashing out, clawing at me. Screaming the word no repeatedly. She hits a cut on my arm and I drop her back onto the mattress, cursing in agony. This sudden movement of the mattress seems to have woken her as she suddenly freezes then opens her eyes, "Mmgh? Harry?"

"Yeah Bubbs, it's me." I say softly. She touches my right arm lightly then goes back to sleep. I lean back on the forearms and sigh. I wish I could do something to help her. I wish I could do something. I wish I was good at something. I lower myself down and run my hands down my face, moaning. I rethink everything that's happened today and slowly start to let my emotions out. Draco telling me I'm an emo freak because I cut. Why do I cut?! I hate myself so much. Cutting is my release. Why don't I stop? I can't. I wish I could. Nothing ever goes right in my life. It hurts so much. I wish I could have stopped Hermione from being raped. I wish I could go and stop myself from telling Draco about my cutting. I wish I could stop people from hurting, I wish I could stop hurting. I sob and shake uncontrollably for about 10 minutes, then I feel Hermione gently touch my hand and whisper sweet nothings to me.

I freeze; how long had she been awake for?

**Short chapter I know, promise the next one is a lot longer!**


	8. Chapter Seven

**DISCLAIMER IN PROLOGUE.**

**HERE'S THE LONG CHAPTER I PROMISED GUYS!**

Chapter Seven

Later that day, we're sat in the garden, chatting and drinking tea when we hear someone knock on the door on the other side of the house. Hermione starts to get up, but I stop her and tell her to stay there, I'll get it. I pull down my white tee shirt and burgundy thin jumper over my rolled up knee length denim shorts and head towards the door. I open it to see Draco.

"Oh." I pause "Um. Hey, Draco." Looking down at my hands, still too nervous to make eye contact.

"Look Potter, my mum's invited your family over for dinner this evening, just a barbeque. Come at seven and don't dress up."

"Gee, um thanks I guess. I didn't know our Mums had been talking."

"Yeah, they do a bit."

He trailed off, our eyes locked. "Okay, so we'll see you at seven. Do you want us to make dessert or anything?"

"Yeah actually. Mum hadn't said that, but she isn't. So if you could."

"Okay. See you later then..." I shut the door and he steps out our hallway reluctantly and I make my way back into the garden. Hermione is sat there, holding her mug with both hands and gazing out into our garden dreamily, lost in her own world. I smile as the breeze captures her hair and brushes it behind her in waves. She jumps as I set my cup down on the table.

"Who was that at the door?" She enquires, trying to hide her curiosity. "It was Draco. He's invited us round for supper this evening."

"Oh, like you, as in your family?" Her tone had changed, it became colder.

"Hey, bubbs, if you want to come with, you can." She looked at me.

"No, it's a family thing, besides, Saturday night is the only night I get with Mum where we just spend time together." I smile, I know her Mum means a lot to her and she really treasures the Saturday evenings.

"Okay, thank you." I sit down and we begin to chat about the 30 Seconds to Mars concert and other things until my older brother Joe gets home. Everyone says we look so similar, we have the same wildly curly hair, same big lips, eyes are the same shape but his are brown and mine are green and framed with my simple black circular glasses, and he's slightly taller than me.

"Oh, hey Hermione! Haven't seen you in ages!" He comes over and gives her a hug; she tenses. Sitting on the third chair, Joe starts asking Hermione how life is going for her. She lies smoothly.

"Hey Joe, can you drive Hermione home?"

"Uhh, yeah sure, I think so. Let me just leave a note for Mum." He went back into the house through the glass doors and I collected Hermione's mug.

After we dropped Hermione off, Joe said that he needed to go to Tesco and get some things for dessert tonight. As we were driving down the hill, he nudged my hand and I looked up from my phone, "Hey Lu, what's going on between you and Mi Mi?" Mi Mi is Joe's nickname for Hermione.

"Joe... What do you mean, what's going on?"

"You know full well, is anything going on? Relationship wise between you two?"

"Genuinely, with everything else going on, there is nothing between us. We hug and stuff, but nothing else. I just don't see her that way."

"Well, she is hot." I glare at Joe. I can't have her hurt again.

"No, not after Fleur, you don't go near her. And besides, it was a mistake."

Fleur is Joe's ex-girlfriend, she was gorgeous and a year younger than Joe. They met in the Caribbean, whilst they were both travelling, she was unlike any other girl that Joe had ever met. She was French, totally obsessed with gaming and loved zombies, twitter and tea addict, and most of all, she seemed to adore my brother. I was happy for him, he was in his element with her. After three months of bliss, they came back to England and he brought her down to see our family. They slept together then. After she went home, he never heard from her again. It almost killed him. He started drinking and smoking heavily; that's how I started smoking, stealing cigarettes from Joe's room. He didn't go to uni that year.

"Harry," His hands had tightened on the steering wheel, "Don't bring Fleur up, you know that. And I would never touch Mi Mi, I'm twenty and she's almost sixteen."

"Yes Joe. I'm sorry won't bring her up again." He relaxed.

Tesco was busy, we only needed a few things, most of it we already had. As I went to get some shampoo for Mum, I passed the men's shaving utilities. And there they were, right on the bottom shelf; a pack of Gillette blades, all shiny. I quickly bent down and snatched them up, hoping Joe wouldn't ask.

He did.

"Harry... Why are you getting shaving blades?"

"Well because I tried shaving with a razor and I didn't like it so I'm trying the blades to see if it is easier."

He stared at me for a minute, with total puzzlement in his face.

"Right, okay. I'm sure you will find it harder though."

I shrugged. We paid and left, knowing that we had a few hours to make the desserts and get changed.

Mum was sat on the kitchen table with her work spread out over it, her laptop playing her latest Spotify playlist.

"Hey Mum." She glanced up over her glasses at me.

"Oh hello darling."

"Mum, the new neighbours have invited us around for supper this evening at seven."

"Oh my god Harry. Why don't you tell me these things earlier?"

"Well, Draco, that's their son, only came round this morning."

"They expecting us to make anything?"

"Yeah, dessert."

As much as being a fabulous mother and jewellery designer, she was also the most fantastic host.

Flicking her ginger hair behind her head, she set down her pen and started clearing up the table. Taking the bags from me, she unpacked the shopping, and put her Cath Kidston apron over her expensive jeans and top. I asked if I could help and she told me that she'd be alright.

I went upstairs, my blades in my back pocket, transferred in the car whilst Joe was swearing at another driver. His music was flowing out through his door and I gingerly knocked.

"Come in."

Joe was stood in his boxers, staring at his wardrobe.

"Harry, I haven't the faintest fucking clue what to wear."

"Joe. It's a fricking barbeque. Get a grip. Just wear shorts and a shirt."

"Harry, have you seen the daughter? She was pulling out the drive as we left; but then again, you were probably too busy making puppy dog eyes at Hermione."

I punched him playfully.

"Seriously though," Joe started "She is a fucking hottie."

"Well, don't let her break your heart Joe."

Finally deciding on a Ralph Lauren black polo shirt and dark green shorts, he followed me into my room and asked what I was wearing.

"Isn't this okay?" I asked, gesturing towards my jumper and shorts.

He burst out laughing "Harry, no. It's an evening barbeque."

"Exactly!"

He went towards my wardrobe when I suddenly remembered that I'd hidden all my old blades in there.

"Hey Joe, I need to shower, can we do this after?"

"Yeah sure." His hand dropped from the handle of the wardrobe and he walked back to his room.

I let out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. Rushing to my wardrobe I took the box and moved it to a drawer in my desk, full of junk and free condoms that the school give out.

Getting in the shower was blissful. The water was hot and it steamed. I washed my hair and my body, desperately trying to ignore the burning from the set of two day old cuts. I looked at them properly for the first time. There were more than I remembered making. I counted and there were 19 in total. They were all quite deep. I felt tears stinging my eyes. I don't know why.

"Joe. Can you help me?"

Joe emerged into my room, phone in one hand and two belts in the other.

"First, which belt?"

Holding up one with the Jack Daniels logo and the other with aztec print, I looked at them both and said that the aztec one would look best with the shorts. Slipping that in he asked what I wanted.

"I have no clue what to wear." At the moment I'm stood in a long white tee shirt and my boxers.

"Okay. Well. I like that tee shirt, it suits you, so what about a pair of light denim shorts?"

"Yeah, that's good."  
I go to get my shorts from my cupboard and slip them on as Mum calls us down because we're already late.

Here goes then. I make eye contact with Joe as we walk down the stairs and he smiles reassuringly.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight.

Mum tenderly knocked on the door and stepped back. She looked gorgeous, her hair loose, green eyes perfectly framed by her glasses with her makeup subtle and in a simple black dress and silver pumps. She could easily be thirty, not her actual age of forty.

A woman with blonde hair tied up and dark grey eyes in a deep blue blouse and white trousers opened the door.

"Oh hello! You must be Mrs Potter! I'm Narcissa"

"Actually it's Miss Potter. But you must call me Lily!"

"Oh, well, lovely to meet you! And are these two gorgeous boys yours?"

"Yes we are." My brother said confidently, leaning forward to shake her hand and peck her cheek. "I'm Joe and this is my brother Harry."

"Ah yes Harry! Draco's mentioned you."

"Lovely to meet you, Narcissa." I copied Joe's actions and pecked her on the cheek.

"Is anyone going to introduce me?" A voice emerged from behind Narcissa and put came a girl with blonde hair and very wide eyes, wearing a dress with a sheer panel exposing her cleavage and not leaving much to the imagination. I nudged Joe to stop him gaping.

"I'm Vulpecula. Lovely to meet you all!" She beamed with perfectly straight teeth at us.

"I'm Miss Potter but please call me Lily. And these are my boys. Joe," Indicating at my still speechless brother, "and this is Harry." Pointing at me, I smiled at her.

"Mum, Dad says the food's almost ready- Oh you brought dessert!" Vulpecula says, noticing the trifle held in Mum's delicate hands.

"Yes, I hope it's okay." Vulpecula took it from my Mum and presumably took it to the kitchen. We all followed her into their spacious kitchen with its purple AGA and wooden floorboards.

"What would everyone like to drink? Glass of wine, Lily?"

"Oh that would be lovely, white if you have it. Boys, what do you want?"

I'm about to tell her that I'd like a lemonade when Draco walks in.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Another long chapter (HURRAH!). Disclaimer in Prologue. Warnings for a bit of fluff, but nothing that bad.**

Chapter Nine

He looked amazing, in a pair of light jeans and a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up; I felt very underdressed. "Hey everyone, I'm Draco. Harry I know, so you must be his older brother?"

Joe smiles and replies with "Yeah great to meet you at last mate."

"So, you must be the wonderful Mrs Potter?"

"Call me Lily and yes I am, lovely to meet you."

He kisses her on the cheek and asks if I'd help him with carrying the food in from the garden. We walk out together though the conservatory and into his spacious garden.

"I didn't know that your Dad wasn't in the picture." He says to me quietly.

"He died soon after Mum had me."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

He introduced me to his Dad, Lucius, and we brought the food in. Mum was avidly talking to Narcissa about the AGA and how good it was, and Joe was chatting to Vulpecula about how the apocalypse is possible. The chatter stopped after the food was brought in.

Sitting down outside next to Draco we started talking mindlessly about guitars, a discovered mutual interest of ours. He was in a band where he used to live, but he doesn't know if he wants to form one here. I said I'd be happy to join him because I play bass too. He shrugged and carried on eating, swiftly changing the topic to different bands.

Dessert went smoothly. as his Dad, Lucius, joined our conversation as he used to play drums and a debate started over which was better. Afterwards, Joe went up to Vulpecula's room with her and Lucius took the dogs for a walk whilst the mothers stayed chatting in the kitchen. I asked Draco if I could see his guitar.

In his room together, he opened a cupboard with it in. It was the most beautiful guitar I'd ever laid eyes upon. Electric, with black and grey. It was awesome. I played for a bit until he interrupted me.

"Hey Harry... Can I ask you something?"

I set the guitar down, "Uh, yeah sure."

"When did you start?"

"Start playing guitar?" I asked cluelessly.

"No. When did you start cutting?"

"Oh... I started when I was seven."

"Seven?!"

"Yeah, I stopped after my Mum found out. But I started again about two months ago."

"Why two months ago? What happened?"

"I was walking with Joe, feeling pretty down and I tripped and cut my neck. It felt so good, I realised what I could do whenever I felt low. It's stupid, but that's why I picked it up again. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you try to kill yourself? And when?"

"It was last summer, I was almost fifteen. I'd been in a stable relationship with this person for a while now, and we were talking about 'it'. They were keen and I wasn't so. Having told them this, they told me that either we did it or they'd break up with me. I wasn't ready and they broke up with me and never talked to me again. I felt so alone and desolate without them, I couldn't imagine being in a world where they aren't with me. I tried to hang myself but the rope snapped. I broke my arm and had to tell Mum that what I was doing. She was devastated and got really upset. Then I tried again, but drowning this time. I wasn't strong enough to go through with it."

"Shit." Is all I manage to come out with. It's scary; he seems so confident and happy, it's scary to think of him as a broken hearted mess, trying to kill himself. I guess you can say that of my brother though.

"So yeah. That's my darkest secret out." I looked at him.

"It's strange that we barely know each other and we're confiding our darkest secrets in each other like this. It doesn't seem right somehow."

He shifted closer to me on the comfy sofa. Our knees were touching. It felt like someone had plugged me into the mains. I could feel his pulse through my shorts. It was almost like we'd been connected together somehow. Our breathing increased, never losing eye contact. He inched closer to me, I could hear my heart pounding inside my ears.

"Joe! Harry! We're off now!" Mum called up the stairs. We jumped apart. I swiftly got up, knocking the guitar over in the process.

"I-I-I'm sorry Draco, but I have to go." I walk out the door and almost sprint down the stairs, knocking straight into Joe, who's hair looked very messed up and doing up his belt.

"Fucking hell Joe. Fast mover!" I say, punching him in the arm.

He tells me to shut up and we both go downstairs together.

At home, we were both in my room chatting about how the evening went. "Joe, shush. Stop telling me about the food and how good that steak was. I want to know about you and Vulpecula." I wink at him.

"You disgusting teenager!" He says, pushing my shoulder, "We started chatting over supper and we have so much in common, the same music interests and everything. We then went up to her room and started watching a zombie film together on her bed, chatting the whole way through it. Then she placed her hand on my thigh and rested her head on my shoulder. I wrapped a hand around her waist and held her hand. She then whispered something in my ear which I didn't hear, I looked down at her and she kissed me, my god she's such a good kisser, and she clambered on top of me and properly kissed me, her thighs squeezing my hips, I ran my hands up her hips and her waist, she has the sexiest body, and across to her chest. She moaned and it drove me insane, and she could clearly feel it, if you know what I mean... And she took my shirt off and ran her hands down my chest and then she totally went downwards."

"Oh my god, you lucky bastard. Was she good?"

"She was very good, but then Mum interrupted, so we had a long kiss and said we'd see each other tomorrow. What did you and Draco talk about?"

I suddenly looked down at the bed covers, refusing eye contact. "Oh, nothing. We played guitar."

Joe seemed to take this and nodded.

"Vulpecula is a fucking hot bird though, good one there Joe. Right," I sighed "I'm going to bed now. Freaking exhausted."

"Harry, before you go; why is there blood on your sleeve?"

I froze.


	11. Chapter Ten

**DISCLAIMER IN PROLOGUE. THANK YOU ALL MY LOVELY REVIEWERS! **

Chapter 10

"I, uhhh, I tripped whilst, with the um, guitar and the um, string caught on my errm arm."

"Show me? I need to make sure it's okay."

He had a tone to his voice that I'd never heard from him before, it was tense and worried from my usually cool and collected brother, the one who could calm even my Mum down in the worst situations.

"No, seriously it's fine Joe. It doesn't hurt." How long had the blood been on there? I remember scratching my arm in Draco's room, but... Shit. What if Draco had seen?

"Harry. Show me your arm, else I'll get Mum."

I shook. "No Joe. I can't."

"Please Harry." He looked at me pleading, desperate.

"Fine." I snapped, "Only if you don't tell Mum. Or anyone. Ever." I gently went and pulled my sleeve up, exposing the fresh cuts, scabs and scars. All in little lines. Of course the cat did it. Of course I tripped on brambles whilst running. Of course I knocked a glass over. Of course my razor slipped.

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Why?" His fingers ran over them softly.

"I started when I was seven. You know, when Flopsy died." Flopsy. My beautiful perfect rabbit. I know, it's stupid. But she was my only friend and I literally had no one else. "I was playing with a compass and it slipped and cut me. I realised how good it felt and kept doing it when I felt bad. I stopped after Mum found out, because I rolled my sleeves up one day. She was devastated. Then a few months ago, when we were walking, I was feeling low because Ron had just been horrible to Hermione and that makes me feel bad because it's my fault, then you pushed me playfully to cheer me up, remember? And I tripped on my shoelace and cut my neck on that broken glass. I bled, but it felt good. It helped dull the emotional pain. So I started cutting again. I do it when I feel low. And I did it pretty badly on Friday, as you can tell-" I indicated to my latest healing cuts "-but I know it's bad. But I can't stop. I still smoke too."

Joe looks at me. "You think I won't understand, right?"

"Yeah, I really do. You can't. How can you?" I sighed.

"Harry. Fleur did it. Really badly."

We both fell into a comfortable but awkward silence after this revelation.

"Where...? Well, what I mean is...Yeah..." I trailed off.

"On her thighs. That's why she always had thick tights on, or leggings or jeans. She had lots of scars and a few littered her stomach as well. I found her blades on afternoon when she was out with you. I asked her to show me her arms. She let me of course. No cuts. Then I asked for her to take her tights off. She started getting upset and that's when I knew..." He ended the sentence sadly.

"But Joe. I don't know what else to do." I said with slight hysteria creeping into my voice. By this time I was shaking properly. Joe got up and held my upper arms.

"Look, Harry. I'm not going to tell you stop. I know it's not that easy. But please, try and talk to me first? If you do it after that, go ahead, but talk to me first. At least we're talking then. Then hopefully we can make some progress here. No matter how long it takes, I will make sure that you will get through this. And no, I won't say it's a phase, because it's not. That's just demeaning something really serious. But when you talk to me, try and think that you're not going to cut. But keep trying with talking to me, who knows? It might just work." He hadn't broken eye contact until that last sentence. For once, I felt like someone really, truly wanted to help me


	12. Chapter Eleven

**THE MAGIC IS FINALLY HERE! DISCLAIMER IN PROLOGUE**

Chapter 11

Joe's gone back to university and now it's just Mum and I. It's been almost a week since the barbeque. I've successfully avoided Draco all week, until this evening. He's ignored me too, not speaking to me unless to sneer at me. Something about my glasses or my hair, or Hermione. He's the good boy in Chemistry and is all week has been constantly getting me into trouble. On Tuesday, he kicked my bag open so I'd be late and yesterday on Thursday he started mouthing something at me and then when I asked what he'd said, the teacher deducted house points from me. I hate Professor Snape, he adores Draco, just because they're both in Slytherin and Draco is good at rugby. It's pathetic. Malfoy loves Snape.

Curled up next to Hermione on the bus, flicking through my Instagram feed and listening to 30 Seconds to Mars, Hermione nudges me and points in the general upwards direction. I turn my head around to see him, HIM, just standing there, his hands in his pockets, even now his chin slightly lifted up in that annoying manner of self importance.

"What do you want?" I glared at him.

"I wanted to tell you Potter." He spat at me, "That in your haste to reach your bookwhore here, you left this in the biology classroom and I have to give it to you." In the very tips of his fingers he's holding out my textbook. Dropping it onto my thighs, he slunks off behind us with that same self important look about him.

"He is such a dick." Mia says, eyes still fixed on her book. Pausing for a second, she turns to face me. "Am I really a book whore?" She asks me.

"You do get through a lot..." She smiles at this and continues reading her battered copy of Wuthering Heights.

In my room, windows wide open, due to the heat wave, I drag on my cigarette. Ha ha bloody ha for stopping. I could never stop this. Ever. My short sleeved tee shirt shows my scabbed over cuts and white criss crossing scars. Being home alone has its benefits, I think as I wander around the house, my cuts on show. Sitting outside on the grass, with a can of coke, I'm busy reading an old copy of NME, I hear someone talking next door.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Draco cries. And I hear a man's strangled cry. Wait... What?

Draco?

Slowly, I put my coke down and stub out my cigarette on the garden wall. Walking round to the rose bush that separates our gardens, I lie down to peek through. There's Draco holding a wand, a wand, in his right hand and a man I'd never seen before struggling against what looks to be invisible bonds at the end of it. Pressed tightly against the wall the man continues to struggle until the realisation hits that it won't help him and his body hangs limp, held up only by the invisible bonds from Draco's wand.

"Please. Mr Malfoy-" The man couldn't finish before Draco cut him off.

"Don't you dare use my father's name around me you scum." Draco flicked his wand, making the bonds tighter. The man squealed and gasped, the bonds getting tighter around his throat. His neck is going red and his desperate yelps of pain are getting more constricted. With a wave of his wand they seem to loosen and the man takes in huge deep breaths, then decides to speak again, not calling Malfoy by his father's name.

"Please. Master Draco, I know not of our Lord's where abouts." The man gasped.  
" Rodolphus. Don't you dare lie to me. I could have you dead in sheer seconds."

"No Master Draco, no one has seen the Dark Lord for three months. Surely your father-"

"MY FATHER KNOWS NOT OF THIS MATTER RODOLPHUS!" Draco yelled, spinning round to face him. "Now you will get off my property Lestrange unless you want the Dark Lord to know of your actions, letting that mudblood go when you had the chance to kill her. You are not worthy of the dark mark and the Lord would be ashamed of you."

"No Master Draco, no please don't."

"Good, now get off my property!" Flicking his wand, the bonds eased and Rodolphus started to run towards the front gate, desperate to get away from Malfoy.

"OBLIVIATE!" Draco cried, pointing his wand at the man's head. A bright shot of light flicked from his wand and targeted right at the nape of the man's neck. He stumbled and then appeared confused.

Draco followed, sighing as if in annoyance, then harshly pushed him round the corner so my vision of them was blocked.

Walking back into the house, hands shaking, I made myself a piece of toast. Okay, so Draco was possibly a wizard. Fuck. Who was this 'Dark Lord' that they both spoke of? And why did Draco need to speak to him so urgently? And what was a Mudblood?

Lightly tapping on Draco's front door, I'm desperately asking myself what the hell I'm doing. He opens it, wearing a long tee shirt and a pair of shorts with his vans that he always wearing.

"Potter. What do you want?"  
"Malfoy-" It's the first time I'd ever called him by his surname, "I need to talk with you."

"Potter, what on earth could you want to speak to me about?"

"What I've just seen." I saw his perfectly put together composure falter at this. His quickly composed himself.

"Fine then Potter. You may come in." As I walked in I saw his hand flick down to his right pocket, where he stored his wand.

Sitting on the same stool I sat on last week; was it really only last week? I took a deep breath. "Malfoy. I saw what you did to that man."

"Rodolphus?" He asked, his eyes not connecting with mine.

"Yes, I think that was his name." I stammer, unnerved by his openness. He's stood by the open fridge, getting the milk out for the tea he didn't offer me.

"Yes. Potter. I'm a pureblood wizard. My father and my Mother are too. If you dare tell anyone or challenge this, I shall kill you within seconds." His face is solid and serious. He clearly despises me. Grey eyes hard and glazed, his gaze unbroken.

"I won't tell anyone Draco. I promise. I need to know who this Dark Lord is."

He froze. "No, you don't. You know of the Dark Lord, you never remember it." His knuckles had tightened on the work surface.

"Potter, I think it's best if you leave. You can't know any of this. I've made a grave mistake." He pauses, eyes locked with mine.

"Malfoy-"

"OBLIVIATE!" He cries. I freeze, seeing the spell about to hit me, but it doesn't. It freezes, stopping just before me, then dropping.

"What?" Draco stares at the space which held the memory charm. "OBLIVIATE!" He cries again, to no avail. "What, only powerful wiz-" He stops and stares at me.

"Potter. You have no idea what you've just done." I look at him.

"What? What have I just done?" I ask shakily, knowing that it must be serious as Draco had gone totally still.

"Only... Only the most powerful of wizards can block that spell."


End file.
